Mother Theresa's dirty socks hung from the chandelier. The Pope had wanted her to leave India, return to Rome and live out her life with his Holy Eminence. She tried, how she tried. She took three months and gave them to him, bathing his pasty, round body with warm water and hand-made soap that reminded her of the Lepers she'd left behind, covered in filth, betrayed by God. When she had enough of the Vatican Sheen and turned to leave, John Paul said to her with a heart heavy with sadness, "How will I remember you?" Theresa replied, "I used to paint my toenails sky blue so even when I was looking down I'd feel like I was looking up. But for you," she said, "I've dressed your chandelier with a gift I brought all the way from Calcutta."